over again, even she tried to guess it. But they could not.
At last Philip Van Reypen gave a whoop of triumph, and exclaimed:
“I have it! Miss Fairfield, I’ve guessed it! Will you give it to me, if I tell you what it is?”
“Your speech sounds like an enigma, too,” said Patty, a little bewildered.
“But I’ve guessed it, I tell you. And, if you’ll promise to give it to me, I’ll tell you the answer.”
“No, I won’t promise,” said Patty. “It might be the motor car itself!”
“But it isn’t! It’s far more valuable than that! It’s a kiss!”
“Oh!” said Patty, “so it is! How did you guess it? It’s fearfully hard!”
Mr. Hepworth looked distinctly chagrined. Why, he thought, couldn’t he have guessed the foolish thing! It was easy enough,—after one knew it!
“Ken, come in here!” cried Patty; “we have guessed another! That is, Mr. Van Reypen did. Now, there are only three left.”
“Only two!” announced Kenneth, as with a beaming face he came in, bringing a dozen sheets of paper, scrawled all over with sketches of trains of cars going uphill.
“Oh, have you done that one?”
“Yes; I’m sure I’m right. The three first cars would have taut chains, being pulled by the front engine; and the three last cars would be pushed up close together, with their chains hanging limp, because they are pushed by the back engine.”
“Oh, Ken, of course that’s right! Thank you, heaps! Now I’ll get the other two, if I have to sit up all night to do it!”
“What are they?” asked Mr. Hepworth, conscious of a faint hope that he might yet be of assistance.
“One’s a charade,” answered Patty. “Here it is:
“‘’Tis futile, Son, my first to use
To change to yours another’s views;
For one convinced against his will
Is of the same opinion still.
“‘If e’er a letter you receive
From maiden fair; pray don’t believe
All that the note itself may say,—
But to my last attention pay.
“‘My total may be well employed
To still a molar’s aching void,
When stopping has not stopped the pain;
That tooth will never ache again!’
“I’ve worked on that a solid week, but I can’t get it.”
“Count me out, too,” said Philip Van Reypen; “charades are too many for me.”
“I’ll do that one for you, Patty,” said Mr. Hepworth, quietly. “Give me a copy to take home with me, and I’ll send you the answer to-night, or early in the morning.”
“Bless you, my angel!” cried Patty. “Will you, really? Why, Mr. Hepworth, I didn’t know you could guess charades.”
“I can’t!” said he, a little grimly; “but I’m going to, all the same. Good-bye, for now.”
And, with a do-or-die expression, Mr. Hepworth took leave of the group.
“Poor man!” said Nan, “he can’t guess it. He just wants to help you out, Patty.”
But Patty smiled and shook her head.
“Nay, nay, Nan,” she said; “if Mr. Hepworth says he’ll guess that thing, he will! It’s as good as done!”
“What faith!” murmured Van Reypen.
“Yes, indeed!” declared Patty. “Why, if I lost faith in Mr. Hepworth, I’d lose faith in the,—in the,—universe! I’ve known him for years, and he never fails me!”
“I guessed one!” said Kenneth, proudly.
“You did,” returned Patty, smiling on him; “and just for that I’m going to take you a whole block in my motor car!”
“Oh! how lovely. But, first, catch your car.”
“Now, what’s the only one left?” asked Philip, who wanted to distinguish himself again.
“Oh, just a simple conundrum,” said Patty. “What is lower with a head on it than without one?”
“That sounds simple, but it isn’t easy,” said Philip, after a few moments’ thoughts. “Nails,—pins,—cabbage heads,—nothing seems to be the right idea.”
And, try as they would, they couldn’t think of anything that led to the right answer.
The boys went home, declaring they’d think it up, and Patty mulled it over in her mind all the evening, without result.
Then she went to bed, declaring she’d dream of the answer.
The next morning she overslept, and Nan, fearing she would be late with her list of answers, went to waken her.
“Wake up, you little April Fool,” she cried, gently pulling Patty’s gold curls.
“Oh, Nan! is it morning? I’m so sleepy!”
“But you must wake up! It’s the First of April, and you must win that motor car to-day or never!”
Patty raised her head, and then dropped it back on the pillow.
“I can’t get my head up,” she said; “it’s too heavy. I guess I’ll give up the motor car. I’d rather keep my head on the pillow. Oh, Nan!” and suddenly Patty sprang up, with a wild yell.
“That’s it! I’ve got it! Hurrah!”
“Mercy, Patty, do keep quiet. What’s the matter?”
“Why, that’s it! the last puzzle! What is lower with a head on it than without one? Answer: a Pillow! See?”
“Patty, you’re crazy! I suppose that is the answer, but I think it’s silly.”
“No, it isn’t; not as puzzles go! Oh, Nan, now I have them all!”
“Not the one Mr. Hepworth took away.”
“He’ll get it back in time. You see if he doesn’t! Oh, Nan, Hooray with me!”
“I won’t. You’ve made noise enough to frighten the whole block now! Do quiet down, Patty, and get dressed.”
“All right, I will,” said Patty, in a whisper, and Nan went away, laughing.
Patty went down to breakfast in a very happy frame of mind, and announced to her father that the motor car was as good as won.
“Why do you feel so sure of Mr. Hepworth’s puzzle?” asked her father, a little curiously. “He never solved a charade before.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Patty, with supreme confidence. “He said he’d do it. If he hadn’t known he could do it, he wouldn’t have said he would do it.”
“Oh, stop, Patty!” cried Nan. “You talk like a puzzle, yourself. Don’t get the habit, I beg.”
“I won’t. But now I must go and copy my answers neatly, and by that time Mr. Hepworth’s will be here, and I’ll send ’em off about noon.”
Patty spent a happy morning copying her answers in her neat script, and looking with pride at her complete list.
At last it was all done, and she had left a vacant space to